The Other Side
by The QAS
Summary: Eduard Heiderich was having a perfectly fine day until some stranger hijacked his body and started talking about parallel universes and alchemy. A story about Edward's Earth counterpart. Holds spoilers for episodes 49 and 50 of the anime and also for Conqueror of Shamballa. Rated for language.


Munich, Germany 1915

It wasn't like he meant to hurt him. Honest. Eduard was just looking out for his brother.

"But you can't go," Alfons whined.

Eduard sighed. His younger brother was sitting up in bed, covered in cold sweat and shivering vigorously. The large, white nightshirt hung loosely off of the boy's skinny frame. After years of sneaking into his uncle's workplace and inhaling rocket fumes, Eduard was surprised something like this didn't happen earlier.

Alfons coughed. They had just changed the sheets so at least they were clean now.

"I'm only doing what's for your own good," insisted Eduard. "Father is researching lung cancer in England and I know I can be of some help. Alfons, listen to me. We're going to get you better, I promise."

Another cough. This time blood came out. "Brother, please don't go," his voice croaked. "I don't know how much longer I have left. I-I'm frightened." Alfons looked down. He hated admitting that he was afraid and Eduard knew this. The older brother felt a pang of guilt. "At least let me come with you."

Eduard shook his head. "_Nein_. You aren't well enough to travel. We both know that. Just stay here and try to get some rest. Besides," he smirked. "You can't speak English to save your life."

"I can too! _My name is Eduard Heiderich. I am stupid and annoying and never cut my hair evenly. Even though I am the older brother, I am shorter than a beansprout._"

Eduard frowned and ran a hand over his blond bangs. "My hair is just fine," he snarled. "And I am **not** short."

Alfons giggled. "But you _are _short."

"Take that back!"

"You're so short that when Father introduces you to all his English friends they'll look up from their tea and crumpets and say, '_oh, there you are, Eduard. I'm terribly sorry. I didn't see you there because my daffodil patch covered you._'"

Eduard growled and, forgetting for a moment about his brother's poor health, pounced on the younger boy and pinned him against the mattress.

"Eduard, s-stop….can't…can't b….breathe!"

But Eduard wasn't listening. Nobody called him short! He threw a few punches—none aimed at seriously hurting Alfons, just enough to teach him a lesson—and his brother desperately fought back.

"Brother…_please_…!"

Another punch. Alfons's struggles weakened. There came a scream from behind the boys.

"Winifrid!"

"_Sind Sie verrückt geworden? _What the hell are you doing?" she demanded. "Can't you see that you're hurting him? Get off, you lunatic!"

Eduard looked down and froze. Alfons's eyes were bulging out of their sockets as he struggled to breathe. Eduard stepped off the bed. "Alfons?"

CLANG! Winifrid threw a pan at Eduard.

"_Autsch!_ Damn it, Winifrid!"

"Step away from the bed."

"Look, he's my brother. I want to hel—"

"Step away from the bed, Shorty!"

"Don't call me—" Eduard glanced at Alfons. "All right, all right." He stepped back.

Winifrid rushed towards the younger Heiderich brother, cradling his head in her lap. "Alfons?" Alfons coughed. Winifrid glared at Eduard. "Get a towel, quickly!"

Eduard nodded. When Winifrid's grandmother came back, he was so dead. If his brother kept getting worse, then maybe he would have to stay in Munich after all.

Eduard returned with the towels and Winifrid demanded some more. He nodded and ran off only to find that they were out of towels. Damn it! Eduard ran out of the building and across the street. Fräulein Garcia would have towels for him. Maybe even some medicine too.

"What are you running for, Hedrich?"

Eduard looked up. His shoulders relaxed. "Officer Hughes! Sorry, I didn't see you there."

"How's your brother?"

"Not well, Sir. I'm…I'm going to see if Fräulein Garcia has any towels or cough medicine."

Hughes's eyes lit up. "Garcia? Have no fear, Heiderich. I'll take care of everything." Before Eduard could protest, the _Polizist_ ran into the shop across the street. A few minutes later, he returned. "Not to worry, Eduard. Everything is going to be fine. Here's the medicine for your brother."

"Um…thanks." Eduard ran back into the house. "How are you doing, Alfons?"

"Shut up, he's sleeping," hissed Winifrid. She looked him over. "Cough medicine? It won't really do anything for him. Still, you might as well hand it over." Eduard complied.

"Is going to be…you know…?"

"I can't tell. People aren't machines; they're hard to predict. Your brother knows that. Why do you think he's obsessed with rockets? _Verdammt! _I wish_ I_ could work with machines for a living. Do you know how hard it is for a girl to get into a mechanic school?" Alfons moaned in his sleep and Winifrid lowered her voice. "Right now it looks like he's in stable condition, but punching him in the chest—right where his infection is—was not a smart move."

Eduard spoke in a quiet voice. "I…I didn't mean to hurt him."

"I know you didn't. It was still a stupid thing to do." Winifrid looked up. "Are you really going to look for your father in England? Hasn't he been missing for months ever since that bomb went off near his flat?"

"Yeah. But I got a letter from him last week letting me know that he was alive and well. He's doing medical research and I know I can use his materials to help Alfons. He's gotta at least let me try, right?"

"Eduard, you're thirteen. What do you expect to do?"

"I have to try, Winifrid. He's my little brother."

"Yeah. He is. When are you leaving?"

"Tonight."

"Tonight?"

"I've gathered enough money for the trip. I need to leave before my father changes locations or Alfons convinces me to stay. This is my chance."

To his surprise, Winifrid nodded. "I understand. Just…be careful. I imagine they don't take too kindly to Germans there. Especially now."

"Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself."

A smirk. "I know you can."

Life in London was difficult. Father wasn't around too often because he was always busy. Eduard didn't mind at first. He liked being in the house alone; the quiet atmosphere helped him think. But as time went on, Eduard began to notice odd things about his father. The man seemed much quieter and more reserved than he remembered and subtle habits of his had changed. Suddenly, Hohenheim wasn't eating his favorite foods, or responding to their inside jokes. What surprised Eduard most was when he heard that his father was no longer doing cancer research.

"You what?" he'd cried the day he'd found out.

"I'm sorry, Eduard. I've just moved onto other things."

"But what about Alfons? He's your son!"

Hohenheim's eyes seemed to twinkle behind his glasses. "That's where you come in, isn't it? I already said you could go through all of my research, did I? You're a smart kid. I'm sure you'll find something."

_That's not the point!_ Eduard wanted to shout. He wanted to kick and scream and beat some sense into the old man. How could Hohenheim not see the fault in his thinking? What did he possibly believe was more valuable in politics than medical research?

If the birthmark on his neck didn't still exist, Eduard could have sworn he was a different person altogether.

Eduard was smart enough to stay low with the war going on. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself. By now he'd gotten used to the air raids and saw them as a mere annoyance rather than a danger.

He spent long days in the library and in his free time he would write letters to Alfons and Winifrid back in Munich. Research was disappointingly slow and even with all of Hohenheim's resource materials, Eduard felt that he was making little progress.

And then something fell out of the freaking ceiling.

It was a night in mid September and Eduard had returned home earlier than his father. This wasn't a surprise; Hohenheim rarely reached the house before his son. The day had been grueling and Eduard found himself basically wiped out.

That was when he saw it: a distinct, shimmering, ghostlike figure descending from the ceiling. Eduard didn't even have time to react before it hit him.

_What the hell…?_

What happened next was indescribable. For a split second, every single muscle in Eduard's body went stiff as a feeling of an electric shock went through his core. He supposed he must have passed out because he found himself on the floor and opening his eyes a couple of seconds later.

"Hello?" a voice croaked from his throat. Eduard recognized the pitch as his own, but he wasn't making himself say the words. "Where am I?" The voice—_his _voice—moaned in pain. Eduard began to panic when he felt himself starting to stand up via muscle actions that were definitely not his own. "Ugh, my head feels like it's been through a…" He caught sight of himself in the mirror. Eduard watched as his face twisted in surprise at the features staring back. "…Ooookaay," his mouth said after a few seconds' hesitation. "That's…odd."

Alarms went off. Eduard's eyes blinked. "Are those sirens?"

Suddenly, his father burst through the door. "Edward, quick! It's an air raid! Come on!" Eduard knew he needed to get somewhere safe before the bombs came, but for some reason his legs wouldn't obey his command.

Eduard watched with an almost out-of-body feeling as he made his way to the door. "Wait! What the hell's going on here, Old Man? What is this place? Where are we?" the voice sounded panicked.

Hohenheim looked confused. "What…? Wait, Eduard, you're not sounding like yourself." Yes! Yes! He knew that Father would realize something was wrong. Relief washed over Eduard.

"Funny, I don't really _feel _like myself either," the stranger snarled. "And what is this city? What's happened to my body? Did Dante do this?"

Something seemed to pass over Hohenheim's face, a realization of sorts. _Maybe he can finally tell me what's going on_, Eduard thought.

His father approached him and grabbed his face. Both Eduard and the stranger who hijacked his body seemed uncomfortable with Hohenheim's actions. The man looked Eduard directly in the eye. "Transmute. Does that word mean anything to you?"

It meant nothing to Eduard, but apparently it did to this person. The stranger pulled away irritably. "Of course it does!" he replied as if his father had just asked what color blue and yellow made.

"But how did you _get _here?"

"Yeah, good question."

The alarms continued to blare. "We'll talk later," Hohenheim said, grabbing Eduard's hand and breaking into a run.

Eduard's hand broke away but he continued running. "What's attacking?"

"Zeppelins."

"Zep-what?" Eduard's head turned around and caught sight of a massive blimp. He could feel his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "Where am I? What city is this?"

Eduard was beginning to grow genuinely panicked at this point. The stranger seemed to be just as confused as he was. He had to try communicating with him. Eduard couldn't use his mouth so he tried thinking as clearly as possible. **Hello? **Eduard's body stopped running. His eyes widened and he gripped his head. Yes! It was working! Or at least the boy heard _something_. **Who ****_are_**** you? **

In a horrifying moment of realization for the stranger, he exclaimed, "Oh hell! I…I think I'm in someone else's body!"

He seemed so surprised that Eduard almost felt bad for him. Then he remembered that the boy had taken control of his body. **What's going on? How did you get here? Why…why can't I move?**

"I have no idea. Who are you? What's your name?"

**I'm Eduard Heiderich. **Common courtesy felt strange and foreign to Eduard at this point, but he felt that he should at least know the name of the stranger who had taken him over. **What's yours?**

"I'm also Edward. Edward Elric." Edward looked up at the sky in amazement. "What is this place called?"

**London. You mean you don't know how you got here?**

"Not a clue. Hey what's—"

**They're coming closer! Run, you idiot, run!**

"All right, all right!"

The panic was increasing in Eduard's mind. If this Edward was always so slow to react, they'd be killed for sure. **Tell me what's happening, **he pleaded silently. **You must have ****_some_**** idea. I need to know why I can't move my body. I—**

"I already told you that I'm just as clueless as you are."

Would he be trapped like this forever? **Is there any way you can find out? Any way at all? It's my body! **

"Look, I don't want to be here any more than you. Once things stop exploding we can ask my dad what the hell is going on, okay?"

Eduard managed to think back a nervous agreement. The young boy was too caught up in the madness to realize that Edward had just called Hohenheim _his_ father.

"I'm sorry about all this," Edward said after a few minutes of running in silence. "I…I imagine it must be really weird."

**Yeah…that's one way to phrase it.**

"I'm serious about giving your body back, though. I…I seem to be taking a lot of people's bodies lately."

**What?**

"Never mind. How much longer should I keep running?"

**Until we reach the shelters. **

"Great." Edward rolled their eyes. "And I don't suppose you would go through the trouble of telling me where exactly these shelters are?"

**You'll find them. Just follow Hohenheim. **

Edward complied and ran after the ponytailed man. Having someone do the running for you is oddly relaxing, thought Eduard. Instead of having to exert himself he found that he was able to simply retire into a corner of his mind and let Edward do the hard work. To be fair, he _had_ stolen his body.

Eduard was jolted out of his peacefulness when he felt Edward come to a sudden halt.

**What the hell? Why did you stop running?**

Edward did not seem to be paying attention to him. Instead, the boy's eyes were fixed on the aircrafts in the sky with a type of morbid fascination.

"This is incredible!" he breathed. "Why have I never heard of these flying machines?"

Why was Hohenheim stopping too? What was wrong with him? This was a bombing for crying out loud!

"It seems in this world, scientific discovery developed along a different track. Physics and advanced machinery instead of alchemy." _Alchemy?_ Surely Eduard couldn't have heard that correctly. "…Came as quite a shock to me too when I arrived."

Edward gasped. "In _this_ world?"

"I thought you realized. You see, this is…the other side of The Gate."

**Gate? What gate? What the hell is going on? Father? Father! Edward, let me talk to my father!**

Edward didn't appear to be listening. He ran his hands over his head. "This is weird. I haven't had my hair this short since I was eleven." He ran his fingers through it again. Then he took out his right hand and flexed his digits for a bit, apparently enjoying the mobility.

Eduard was losing patience. Edward could play with his body on his own time. **Stop that! Stop it now! Leave my hair alone! Let me speak to Hohenheim, Edward…let me speak to my father.**

"I…I don't know how to let you do that," the body hijacker admitted sheepishly.

**Try not to control your limbs, just let them hang there and then I'll sweep in and get control.**

The other boy seemed reluctant. "For how long?"

**For as long as I want! This is ****_my_**** body that you're inhabiting right now. I'm entitled to use it!**

"Okay…I'll try." From the tone of his voice, Eduard could tell that he didn't think it was going to work.

_I'll show him,_ thought Eduard. _I'll get my body back! _With every ounce of his willpower, Eduard tried to move an arm or at least flex a finger but he found his attempts to be futile. **Edward, stop it! Let me get control for just a minute!**

"I _am _giving you control!"

_Oh crap._ If Edward was telling the truth—and from the indignation in his voice, it sounded like he was—then why couldn't he move? Eduard tried again but the most he could manage was some mild trembling in his fingers and Eduard wasn't even sure that he had caused that. Nothing was working; he was a prisoner in his own body.

"What's taking you so long?"

**It's…it's not working! I don't know why! You…you have to let me try again. **If Eduard had control of his respiratory system, he would certainly have been hyperventilating right then. Who was this boy? How did he have control over his body? Why did his father know him? Had Hohenheim anticipated the body hijacking? Was that why he had been acting so weird? Maybe someone had hijacked his father's body. That would certainly explain a lot. Eduard's stomach dropped—or it would have if he still harbored control over such functions. **Edward, let me try again.**

But Edward wasn't listening. Instead, he ran up to Hohenheim (Eduard found himself now starting to mentally refer to this man exclusively by that name because he was now convinced that he was not his father.) "Tell me about this world," he insisted. "What the hell is going on? What were those machines and why were they attacking us?"

Hohenheim sighed. He turned to face away from Edward and instead looked off into the distance when he gave his response. "This world is tragically violent. Throughout the course of this war, millions of people have been killed with the use of highly toxic gases, but the most terrifying instrument of death is yet to come. You saw it in the gate, didn't you?"

There he was going on with the gate again! What was—

Suddenly, Eduard found himself no longer looking at Hohenheim's back. Instead, a vision of a giant, mushroom-shaped cloud filled his vision. For reasons that Eduard didn't know, the image sent fear creeping into his very being. He didn't know the details, but he knew that the destruction would be on an unfathomably large scale. But that wasn't exactly unique, was it? The Gate showed him lots of images of destruction—Only…Eduard was never_ at_ The Gate. He realized that these were Edward's thoughts creeping into his conscious, not his own.

Hohenheim continued his lecture. "The lives of those who have died and will die in this world become the energy for the alchemy used in ours."

Eduard felt confusion, both his own and his parasite's. "The energy? That doesn't make any sense." His tone was desperate now, "What about the law—"

"Law of Equivalent Exchange?" His father turned around slightly when he said this, but only for a second. "There's something you don't understand. It takes more than equal mass to restore a broken radio. The energy used to put it back together must come from somewhere too, and energy cannot be created or destroyed. Only redirected."

Edward hung his head. "So that's the secret? The lives of people who die here cross The Gate and become energy we need for transmutations. Is that what you're telling me?" There they were going with that stupid gate again. Why wouldn't anyone explain what was going on to him?

This time Hohenheim did turn around. "Inside all of us, there lies a smaller version of the gate you passed through. Alchemists have the ability to open that gate, crossing worlds and feeding off the tragedies of this one. It happens every time you draw a circle…or clap hands."

Anger flooded into Eduard's being. No, not just anger; _denial._ Denial of what? Eduard was hearing Hohenheim and the stranger exchange words, but for some reason his brain seemed unable to process them. What were they talking about with circles and hand-clapping?

Edward was ready to lash out and defend everything he knew. This was all Dante's fault! _Dante? Who's Dante? _Eduard wondered. Regardless, Hohenheim sounded just like her and Edward made sure he was aware of this fact. "You sound just like that headcase Dante! All the same crap about there being no equivalent exchange."

Hohenheim's entire body radiated misery. "I wasn't aware you knew about her."

"I know _everything._ I know the two of you were lovers because I read the letter. I know you've been keeping yourselves alive jumping from one body to another. But what I don't understand is that if you and that evil bitch were so perfect together, why did you feel the need to marry my mother? Did you get some sick satisfaction out of pretending to be a normal human?" Edward's voice had slowly increased in volume as he ranted and by the end he was practically shouting at the top of his lungs. To Hohenheim's credit, he made no effort to stop the boy. Instead, he stood there and took the beating, probably thinking that he deserved every word.

Only when Edward was done, did the man speak . "I loved your mother." The words were stated as simple fact. "With all of my being, I had never loved until her. You_ have _to believe that."

The lines between Eduard and Edward were blurred even further. The former knew that the latter was near tears and quite frankly, so was he. Edward's breaths came out in short, nervous bursts. He wasn't going to let himself cry. Instead of feeling sad, he decided to revert to an emotion that made him much more comfortable: anger. "Then _why?_ Why did you leave us?"

Hohenheim did not speak right away. Instead, he pulled up his shirtsleeve. _Gott im Himmel! _Edward gasped and Eduard mentally hoped that he would turn away. The sleeve was only up for about a few seconds, but it was enough for Eduard to get a good look at what was underneath: decaying flesh. His arm looked like it had been taken over by some flesh-eating bacteria. The skin was brown and cracked and missing in some places. It didn't even look like skin at all. It was scabbed and stretched and wrinkled all at once. And the pus oozing out from the cracks made Edward's (and therefore Eduard's) stomach feel queasy. Luckily for them, Hohenheim put the sleeve back down almost immediately. He had made his point.

"I just couldn't let you see me like this. The thought was too much for me to bear."

**For god's sake, make him pull his sleeve down! **

"I knew Dante couldn't create a stone, at least not without my help. I thought if I just stayed in hiding, she'd finally fade away. But I had to do something once she'd set her eyes on you."

"So in return, she sent you beyond The Gate?"

"Not beyond The Gate, just inside it and she separated my mind, body, and soul while I was inside, leaving me to wander in that limbo forever. But despite her efforts, I put myself back together and wound up here."

Edward looked down at his arm in confusion. "Is that what happened to me?" Eduard mentally perked up. He wanted to hear this, too.

"Not quite. The success of alchemy seems to be the diverging point for these worlds. We share the same history before that and much is still the same. As you see, there's a boy here that is physically identical to you." Eduard decided that he didn't like the way he was being spoken of as if he wasn't there. "There's probably a boy like Al as well." Al? …As in Alfons?

"That makes sense," Edward agreed, "but that doesn't explain how I got this body." _Damn right, it doesn't._

"It's highly probable that your true body is still somewhere inside The Gate, but your mind and soul have crossed over into this world and they were attracted like magnets to _this_ Eduard's body." _Okay, so now I'm 'this' Eduard? That's not fair. I was here first! _

Before Hohenheim could elaborate any further, two uniformed men came up to him. They saluted and whispered something into his ear. Hohenheim nodded. "I have to go now, Edward. I wish you the best of luck."

The response was the same from both boys: **"Wait, ****_what?!"_**

Hohenheim said nothing further, instead he starting following the men.

**What do we do now?** Eduard wondered miserably.

"We follow him, that's what!" Edward replied as if it were obvious. He started running and calling out. "Hey, wait! Wait!"

They managed to catch him just as he was getting into a car. "You must open The Gate that's inside you, only then can you find your way back to your true home, Edward." The complete lack of acknowledgement towards the body's true nature stung Eduard.

"But aren't you coming too?"

_Yes!_ Eduard thought enthusiastically. _Yes, please take this father-posing bastard far away from me!_

"I'm afraid that's not possible. Since my body has already crossed The Gate, I'm completely a part of this world now." _Fantastic._ "And because alchemy seems to be impossible here, I'm stranded. But luckily it isn't too late for you."

Edward wasn't backing down. "There must be something we can do!"

Hohenheim paused and smiled slightly. "I know it's hard for you to understand, but I believe it's best that I'm staying here. That way I can live the remainder of my life in the body your mother loved." He climbed into the car.

It was then everything snapped together for Eduard. This man didn't naturally go to his Earth equivalent because that man was dead. The real Hohenheim Heiderich had been killed in a bombing several months before and now he had been replaced with this…this imposter. No wonder his father had inexplicably given up on his life's goal. It was because he was dead.

"You should know, I was relieved to find out that the law of equivalence wasn't true, that people mustn't always be required to pay a price in order to gain something of value in return; because even if I lived for a thousand lifetimes, I could never do enough to deserve the gift of my children: You and Al." _Great. Just great._ Now Eduard felt guilty.

The car started up and Eduard was a bit surprised when Edward didn't try to run after it. Maybe he knew it was a lost cause.

**I can't agree with you. I know if I try my hardest, I'll be rewarded. And I believe that applies to all of us. It doesn't matter who you are, if you work hard it pays off. I know equivalent exchange is true.**

Eduard was vaguely aware of the fact that Edward was not expressing these thoughts verbally. Much like Eduard, he was speaking in full sentences, but voicing them only in his head. He mentally snorted. **_Du hast den Arsch offen,_**** Edward Elric. Do you really think people always get what they deserve? Do you think that everybody in this war deserved to die? Do you think my brother deserved to get fucking lung cancer? **

Edward stopped walking for a moment. "Your…your brother?"

**Yes, my brother back home in Germany. Alfons Heiderich. He's nine years old and dying. **

"Is this place…Germany. Is it far away?"

**Yes.**

Edward bowed his head. "I'm sorry to hear that. My brother Alphonse is in danger as well, that's why I need to get home. But if he's so far away, why did you come out here?"

**I came here to try to research a cure for him because I'm all my brother has left. It seems stupid now, though. I'm thirteen. **

**Wait…you're thirteen? I'm****_ sixteen_**** and I'm still this height! That's not fair, damn it!**

**Not the point. If full-grown adults can't find a cure, then I don't know what I'm wasting my time for. It's childish, really.**

**If it's childish to believe in this, so be it. I'd rather be considered a child than follow a doctrine of cynicism and chaos and apathy,** Eduard was getting the feeling that Edward was no longer speaking to him. **I thought I didn't care, Dad, That I didn't need to believe in things. I was wrong. **

**Did you hear that?**

Edward turned to look at the sky. Eduard recognized the sight and urged the boy to move before he killed them both. Edward did not respond; he was transfixed by the sight.

**Move now! Move, or neither of our brothers stand a chance!**

This statement seemed to catch Edward's attention, but by the time he finally got to moving, it was too late. The Zepplin came crashing down, pinning them to the ground.

Then came the heat. The excruciating, searing heat that threatened to melt his skin off. It clouded Eduard's thoughts and he was only vaguely aware of the blood running down his face.

"Don't worry, Eduard," whispered Edward. "I'm gonna get us out of here." Using the little strength left in his body, Edward clapped his hands together with an expectant look on his face. What was he doing? Eduard vaguely remembered something Hohenheim said about alchemists clapping their hands.

But didn't alchemy not work in this world?

Eduard's question was answered when the wooden frame of the zeppelin promptly collapsed.

~O~

Mediaș, Romania 1921

Fifteen-year-old Alfons Heiderich coughed into his handkerchief before quickly shoving the bloody cloth back into his pocket. _It's okay_, he reassured himself, _nobody saw. You're fine; just keep moving. _

"Oof!" he collided with a random stranger. Alfons dived to the ground and tried to collect all of the papers he dropped. The stranger did the same. As luck would have it, their files were surprisingly similar.

"You're studying rocketry?" the man asked.

Alfons nodded.

"Then maybe you could help me. I'm looking for a man named…um… Hermann Oberth."

"Oberth? No kidding." Alfons straightened so quickly that his head knocked into the stranger's. "That's where I'm headed as well." Alfons stopped once he caught sight of the stranger's face and they locked eyes. It had been years, but the features still stood out sharply to Alfons. For a second he wondered if it was really him before deciding that it was just wishful thinking.

It was then he noticed the stranger staring back at him. Alfons forced an awkward smile. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah," the man replied after a moment of hesitation. "You said you were looking for Oberth too?"

Alfons nodded. "That's right." He stood up. "Well…shall we?"

The boy nodded, his golden eyes not once leaving Heiderich's face.


End file.
